Under The Influence Of Mistletoe
by LarielRomeniel
Summary: What really happened between Tosh and Owen that Christmas Eve.


**Author's Note: **Yet another find from my Livejournal account. This was written for the Writer In A Drawer contest way back in 2008. I never got it posted here.The prompt for the contest was "under the influence" and the bonus requirement was the mention of a mustelid.

STANDARD DISCLAIMER: The characters and situations are NOT MINE and I make no money from this.

_How the hell did I end up here?_

Tosh's arms were wound around his neck, her body pressed up against his and her tongue delving into his mouth. She tasted of the many _(too many)_ drinks she'd had that evening.

Normally, Owen would be thrilled to have his arms full of warm, willing woman. Even if she was drunk. But he had to work with Tosh, and he'd already learnt a bitter lesson about workplace affairs. It was one thing when the woman wanted it and was completely aware of what she was doing, like Suzie. Or if she was not completely aware but was a complete stranger completely willing, like that woman from the Buffalo Bar. Tosh was neither aware nor a stranger, and as far as Owen was concerned, that made her off limits. _And Suzie thinks I have the morals of a mink in heat….Damn! Where'd Tosh learn how to do __**that**__?...Perhaps Suzie's right…_

They were just supposed to have _a_ drink after working late. Just a little Christmas cheer. But one drink turned into two turned into three, four, more…he'd stopped counting.

Somewhere between drinks three and four, he'd asked her, "Aren't you supposed to be heading to London in the morning? Christmas with your family?"

She drained her glass. "Yeah, I'm supposed to. But…." She sighed. "It's our first Christmas without Mum. It just doesn't…it doesn't feel right." She fell silent for a moment, then chuckled. "I'm half hoping that some emergency comes up so that Jack calls us back in. Work is an excuse my father could understand." She motioned to the server for another round.

"It's gotta be hard," Owen said, knowing it was trite but not knowing what else to say.

"It's impossible," she said. "I miss her, Owen. I miss her smile. I miss all the little ways she used to show me how proud she was of me." She laughed in a way that sounded more like a sob. "I even miss the biscuits she'd burn every year."

He let her natter on, just making an occasional sound of acknowledgement. He wasn't normally one for tea and sympathy…well, liquor and sympathy…but the liquor was good and it wasn't as if he had anything else to do.

Sometime after midnight, after he'd stopped counting drinks and after she'd run out of words, Jack did call them, just to let them know that Torchwood One had "declined" the services of Torchwood Three for the emergency with Guinevere One. "Yvonne seems to think we're just a bunch of loose cannons that could start an interstellar incident," Jack had said. "But keep your phones on. I want you to stay sharp, just in case."

_A bit late for that,_ Owen had reflected as Jack hung up. "Looks like you might get your wish, Tosh. Let's get you home so you can sober up. I'll make you some hair of the dog."

"Shouldn't we go to the Hub?" she asked as she got to her feet unsteadily and reached for her coat.

"Jack says not yet," he told her as he helped her get into the coat. "We should still be able to get a cab." Together they went out into the chilly night air. He phoned for a cab as they crossed the Plass toward the Millennium Centre. "It'll be about five minutes," he said, ending the call as they reached the front entrance.

Tosh swayed a little as she dug her hands deeper into her pockets. Owen reached a hand out to steady her, and then she was on him. Owen thought he caught a flash of green in her hand as she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.

After some long moments, finally deciding that Suzie was wrong and he _did_ have more morals than a mink, he broke the kiss. "What was that for?" he asked, a little breathlessly.

Tosh blinked at him owlishly and brought her hand down so he could clearly see the green thing he'd glimpsed before she snogged him. "Mistletoe," Tosh answered. "And…I just wanted to say….thanks for sticking around and listening."

"So, you owe me one."

A cab finally pulled up, and Owen bundled Tosh in. She sagged against him during the ride back to her place, drank the potful of coffee he made for her, and was there for him the next morning when he found himself coming out of a trance on the edge the Millennium Centre roof, with hundreds of other people.

Tosh smiled as she pulled him back from the brink. "Now we're even."


End file.
